


Some things, you shouldn't do

by gabsrambles



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-25
Updated: 2018-01-25
Packaged: 2019-03-09 10:54:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13480008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gabsrambles/pseuds/gabsrambles
Summary: Alex has never had good impulse control.





	Some things, you shouldn't do

**Author's Note:**

> Sam and Alex, a one shot. Because I have feelings.

 

 

 

 Alex has a little bit of an issue with impulse control.

She’s always had one. That came to be in the worst way possible when she was at college, and it still bites her in the ass occasionally. Kara’s in danger? Alex doesn’t think, just runs into action. Hot woman flirts better than anyone Alex has ever met when Alex is heartbroken? Alex is waking up in bed with her the next morning and falling on her ass in an effort to escape. J’onn is being threatened? Alex stabs Kara’s aunt. Things aren’t going so well in life? Alcohol. Want to make a gesture to your first love after a short time together and before you’ve really discovered what you each want and expect in a long term relationship? Propose.

Story in a nut shell: not the best impulse control.

So when Sam asks her to go back to her apartment with Ruby that night to stay and make sure she doesn’t go anywhere, her hands shaking as she clasps her bag and tries to hide the fact that they are, Alex says an immediate yes.

Because she doesn’t think she’s ever seen someone as shaken up as Sam is in that moment.

Ruby is just excited to have Alex there, but it’s late and she’s in bed pretty quickly and it leaves Sam next to her in the kitchen while Alex sits on a stool with her leg awkwardly balanced on the bars of another, and a glass of wine in front of both of them.

They both take a gulp that’s a bit too long, and then Alex finally breaks the weird silence that’s been heavy between them.

“You have zero memory of where you’ve been?”

There’s a slight quiver to Sam’s lower lip when she gives a shake to her head. “No. Nothing.”

An idea. That’s all Alex has. An idea of where she’s been that’s one she doesn’t want to let really rise to the surface, not without proof. But it’s there. Buzzing in the background of her mind and she wonders if it’s there for Sam, too. Because it’s so glaringly  _obvious_.

But it’s too horrendous a thought. Because  _how_?

“Do you ever come to in strange places? Anything that can provide a clue?”

Alex’s voice is soft in the too-bright kitchen. Sam’s gaze is flitting everywhere, from Alex’s face, to her wine, to her still shaking hands, to the room, the floor, and back to Alex’s face, her eyes wide and deep and lost. Something heavy pulses in Alex’s chest each time their gazes lock and she wants to swallow down the feeling, but the wine does nothing to help it.

A slight shake of Sam’s head. “No. It’s always home or work or where I think I’m meant to be.”

“And there’s really  _nothing_  you remember?”

Sam’s wine glass is slammed down on the marble counter top, the sound ringing out and Alex doesn’t even flinch. “No! Nothing. I remember absolutely  _nothing_.”

Her gaze is back on Alex’s, not flitting all over, and Alex puts her own glass down and leans forward slightly, hand on her forearm. Her skin is warm, soft, and Alex has the urge to run her fingers up and down it. “Okay.”

“I’m sorry.” Sam’s voice is a whisper between them. They’re close, and after a day of thinking about Maggie and with all the tension vibrating off Sam, it’s tempting to close the gap and make them both feel better.

“You don’t need to be sorry.”

Alex’s hand is still on her arm and Sam is still staring her straight in the eye. And Alex is still filled with that stupid impulse and would see it through, except then Sam reaches over the counter and Alex’s hand falls away as she grabs the bottle of wine.

The liquid sloshes into her glass, fills it, like the last top up did. Sam’s hand still shakes, barely discernible.

It’s not news. This feeling. This urge to push the glasses aside and slide her fingers around the back of Sam’s neck, let her hand raise goosebumps as she presses her lips to Sam’s.

This isn’t new.

Something has been building, mostly on soft looks in Christmas lights and grateful smiles and, laughter that lilts just the right way and, well, with absolutely zero touches.

Like they’ve both being making sure to avoid that.

But here, Alex put her hand on Sam’s arm and has broken that accord and now she isn’t sure what they’re supposed to be doing.

Not with that idea, that suspicion, that  _knowledge_ , in the back of her mind.

Because it just  _can’t_  be true. That wouldn’t be fair.

Though Alex has learn there’s a lot that isn’t fair.

Sam pushes the wine glass back to Alex and Alex’s fingers sit over hers as she goes to take it. Electricity would be so  _cliche_  to describe it, but that’s exactly what it feels like, sweeping up her arm and sending warmth everywhere.

Then Sam pulls away again, after an almost startled look, and Alex brings the glass to her lips and hopes the alcohol will swallow all of this down.

“Are you sure you don’t mind staying?”

"Of course not.”

Sam’s gaze flicks straight to hers again. Her eyes are the colour of secrets, of longing. Of things Alex shouldn’t let herself near, especially now. “Really?”

She doesn’t drop her hand on Sam’s arm this time, but she does lean forward. “You’re not alone in this. I’ll help you. We’ll figure this out, Sam.”

And Sam’s eyes are red-rimmed when she nods. “Thank you, Alex.”

And their gazes, again, hold too long and Alex feels tugged in two directions, one towards idiocy and the other towards common sense.

There’s a guest room and Alex hobbles right past it as she follows Sam to her own room, because otherwise, how will she know if Sam goes anywhere?

They’re adults and they can share a bed without it being weird. And that’s what they do, Alex’s leg propped up on a pillow as she tries to ignore her frustration that she can’t sprawl on her stomach like she usually likes to. The light is off and all she can hear is Sam’s soft breathing.

“Alex?” And she’s closer than Alex realised. She turns her head, and can just make her out, head propped on her hand and staring down at her. “Thank you.”

And there’s something taught in her voice, something that sounds close to snapping and, again, Alex wonders how much Sam suspects, what she thinks could be happening and then there’s a curtain of hair around Alex’s face, and warm breath washing over her lips.

“I know this is a bad idea,” Sam whispers, so softly Alex can barely hear it. Her lips are so close and Alex closes her eyes, just feels her, and doesn’t say a word.

Just finally lets her fingers brush over Sam’s neck and tugs her down and the kiss is like coming home, like something forbidden, like everything she needs but shouldn’t want right then, all at the same time.

It’s the warmth of Sam’s tongue licking into her mouth, the hitch of her breath when Alex pulls her down closer, the warmth of air across her cheek.

Because Alex hasn’t really ever been one for common sense.

* * *

Everything unfolds mostly like Alex could have predicted, though her brain still has the audacity to feel shocked.

Sam disappears in the night and Alex sits up in the bed, the curtains fluttering as Reign is in the window, her had cocked as she stares straight at Alex and Alex stares back.

Because she knows those eyes.

And then she’s gone.

And everything utterly goes to hell.

Because whatever was happening to Sam has changed, and she doesn’t go back to her life when she’s not Reign anymore. Like she knows she’s been found out, like some part of her has grown stronger. Ruby is terrified and she stays with Alex, pressed into her sofa and eyes red-rimmed like her mother’s. The only people that know who Reign is work in the DEO, and Kara’s fists are clenched at her side permanently. She stands shoulder to shoulder with Alex as they get every debrief they can while everyone struggles to come up with a plan.

On the TV, Reign and two others who have joined her are tearing the city apart and no one has that plan.

“I can’t believe that’s Sam,” Kara says.

Neither can Alex.

Except she knew it was coming.

She keeps the memory of the biting desperation of Sam’s kiss, the way she tasted like fear and salt, locked deep in her chest.

Being out of action is killing her and all she can do is try and help with a plan, but no one is coming up with anything and everything is falling apart.

Three days pass and Ruby is struggling to keep up the lie at school and Alex is struggling to hide her own fear and the DEO is failing miserably and people keep dying.

It’s the third night when Alex hears the sound from the living room and she stumbles out with one crutch and her gun held in front of her with a steady hand.

Reign is standing over sleeping Ruby and Alex cocks the gun, the click loud. Because she’ll be damned if she lets her harm her own child.

Sam’s--Reign’s--head turns slowly to look at Alex and for a second, Alex can’t figure out what’s throwing her off.

“Alex.”

That’s Sam’s voice.

And that’s what it is. There’s no coldness in that look.

“Sam.”

And Alex slumps back against the wall in relief, the gun falling to her side, safety on. It wouldn’t have helped her much, anyway.

Sam throws a longing look down to Ruby, fast asleep, and walks over. She takes slow, measured steps and Alex isn’t sure it’s not terror that’s making her heart race.

She’s all dark lipstick and dark eyes, a mask that hides her away. And Alex is tired. She’s tired of patching up a beaten up Kara and keeping Ruby calm and trying not to show the cracks in her heart.

“How—”

Sam stops in front of her and shakes her head. “She’s stronger, now. I can’t—I can’t control it, anymore.”

She sounds like something broken, exhausted.

“I just wanted to see Ruby.” Sam swallows, and looks back over her shoulder, then turns back. “And…”

She doesn’t say what else more, because she can’t.

They’re both full of things they can’t say, that there’s no point voicing.

Sam turns, steps towards the window.

“Sam.”

And Alex has never heart her own voice crack that obviously. “Please.”

She hates pleading.

But there’s a finality in this. An ending.

This can all only go one of two ways, but neither is going to work out well for them.

And then Sam’s there, flush against Alex and Alex is pinned to the wall and there are hands in her hair, nails scraping along her scalp and she’s gasping into a kiss that tastes like goodbye. Her crutch slides soundlessly to the ground and she lets her fingers grasp at Sam’s waist, pull her in tighter, harder. Too soon Sam is pulling away, their foreheads together and there are tears on her cheeks as she brushes her nose over Alex’s, a small smile on her lips at the action, like something so gently is almost unbelievable.

And she’s gone, cold air all that’s left behind.


End file.
